


Caged Birds and Vagabonds

by pipisafoat



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 02:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't work with submissives."</p>
<p>Marshall looked uneasily at the man in front of him. "Tell me she has an off button somewhere."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caged Birds and Vagabonds

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a multifandom established alternate universe started in 2006 by [Xanthe](http://www.xanthe.org/). Every character in this universe is pansexual and BDSM relationships are the norm - most people identify as either dominant or submissive. [Read more about this universe](http://bdsm-universe.livejournal.com/3282.html) from Xanthe.

"I don't work with submissives."

Marshall blinked, cocked his head to one side, and blinked again. "You're one of those tops," he said in an even voice. "You do realized that we're full fledged citizens now, right? Even won the right to vote back in 1920."

"And you're one of those subs," Mary responded. "Pick someone else."

Her supervisor shrugged. "Chief Inspector McQueen needs a full briefing on the case. We've sent over the files, but it's always best to hear it in person, fill in any seemingly insignificant details."

"Then I'll fly to Albuquerque. On my own dime if I have to. I'm not riding with this--"

"Not to mention that Inspector Mann should also be briefed." He shrugged again, a smile lurking just behind his professional mask. "I'm afraid my hands are tied."

Mary whirled and left his office, muttering, "Tied hands, shows what a sub you really are...."

Marshall looked uneasily at the man in front of him. "Tell me she has an off button somewhere."

* * *

"Mary, are you going back East?" Claudia asked, and Marshall suppressed a grin as he watched his temporary partner finally realize that the submissive woman had a massive crush on her.

"No. This has been such a wonderful, life-changing experience, I'm going to derail my whole career and join WITSEC in Albuquerque." She glared at both of the witnesses for good measure. "Please."

"Freud said there are no jokes," Marshall risked as they got into his car.

Mary snapped her fingers, and he handed the keys over. "What?" she asked impatiently as she started the car.

"You were using sarcasm to express your true feelings."

"You talk to all doms like this? No wonder you aren't collared." She sighed even as he steadfastly didn't flinch. She had no way of knowing about his last relationship. "Never mind. There's something weird about the air here."

"That's the lack of pollution."

She frowned as she rolled the window down. "It's like this all the time?" He nodded. "I don't know. Might be worth sticking around to see these two break up. Should be in about a week."

He rolled down his own window and turned as though watching pedestrians before allowing his grin to break free.

* * *

"Stupid fucking machine!" Mary yelled, and a loud thunk came from the vicinity of her desk. "Marshall! Get your scrawny ass in here!"

He was out of Stan's office and beside his partner before he even realized he was moving. "Yes, m--" He bit back hard on the ma'am and forced himself to look her in the eye. "Yes, Mary."

Stan had followed him into the room, and he started to speak now. "Marshall--"

"It froze again," Mary cut in. "Right before shutting off and probably losing all of my data in the process." Her fist clenched by her side; Marshall tensed automatically, but it flew into the filing cabinet instead. "Don't just stand there," she ordered, the anger in her voice mixing with a calm control. "Fix it."

Marshall slid quickly to his knees and ducked his head. "Yes, ma'am."

"Inspector Shannon!" Stan barked. "In my office. NOW!"

Marshall focused on the computer, but he couldn't avoid hearing bits and pieces of their argument even through the closed door. Phrases like _keep it in the playroom_ and _submissive or not, he outranks you_ filtered into his awareness, and he felt a sudden rush of sympathy for all the subs out there who didn't have bosses like Stan McQueen.

"Hey," Mary said quietly, several long minutes later. He glanced up to find her crouching on the floor beside him. "Look, I ... I'm sorry. That was out of line."

"It's okay," he answered just as softly, turning back to the computer.

"Marshall ... you're still on your knees. It's clearly not okay."

He shifted hastily to a seated position, stifling a groan as his knees complained. "Habit. That's all. It doesn't mean anything." He groped behind him for the screwdriver.

Mary set it in his hand, and he froze at the slight contact. "I stepped out of line and took advantage of your orientation. If it had been anybody but you, if Stan hadn't been right there - hell, if Stan weren't as strong as dom as he is...."

"But it was me, and he was there. It's okay, Mary."

She pulled her hand away from his. "I'm not that kind of top."

"No, you aren't," Marshall agreed, settling the screwdriver in place and removing one short screw after another. "And I should have known better than to respond to someone who doesn't own me, at work." He swallowed hard, then reached a hand behind him again. "Pass me the multi-tool."

She dropped it into his hand without touching him and resettled her own position. "What's the prognosis, doc?"

* * *

"You should stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking," Marshall said quietly to their newest witness, one hand on his chest holding him back in the conference room.

Eps eyed Marshall up and down, then glanced out the door and openly leered at Mary's retreating form. "Come on, man. You mean to tell me you have a partner that looks like that and you still get pissy when subs check her out? I don't see a collar around your neck. Maybe you're the one that needs to stop thinking what you're thinking."

"Hey, let's go!" Mary called, turning back towards them just as Marshall released Eps. "Marshall, you coming with?"

"I have work to do," he answered, not looking away from the other sub.

"Suit yourself. Come on, Eps."

He smirked at Marshall on his way out the door. "You're going to make yourself crazy."

"I already _am_ crazy," Marshall muttered to himself, collecting the files Mary had left behind on the table.

* * *

"And when dinner was finally ready, I went to the kitchen only to find that Raph had only put out one plate." Mary slammed her fist on the conference room table. "Can you believe that?"

Marshall shrugged. "Some subs are more progressive, Mary. It's getting more and more common for a sub to propose sharing a plate." He grabbed another slice of pizza out of the box between them and wondered vaguely what it meant that they were sharing the box and had no plates. "Collaring is still entirely your purview, though."

"Some subs are more wrong," she muttered.

"So stick with the more traditional kind," he said, gesturing with his pizza at her. "A lot of us think it's downright infelicitous to presume like that."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me, you're one of those subs who expects the dom to do everything, make the first move on everything. And then you're in the clear any time you want to scream harassment, because it was always the dom pushing you into things, never your own idea."

"No," he replied emphatically. "God, no. So I'm a romantic about collaring and sharing a plate and maybe even the first scene, okay? Doesn't mean I'm one of _those_ subs. When I'm with someone, it's a partnership. It's part of my responsibilities to my dom to keep up my end of things, and that includes telling them what I do and don't want." He raised a hand as she started to speak again. "And that doesn't mean that I don't expect my limits to be pushed, because I do. A good partnership - for me - means sharing responsibilities, even the power is all in the dom's hands. How are you going to take me down if you don't know what's good for me?"

Mary grunted and dropped her half-eaten slice back into the box. "Put that in the fridge when you're done," she said, pushing away from the table.

"Mary."

"It's not an order, Jesus, Marshall. I remem-- I got the memo, too. No giving orders just because you're a sub."

"I know, and that's not what I was going to say."

She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Okay. Shoot."

"If you really don't want a long-term sub, maybe you should be sure your playmates aren't looking for a long-term dom."

She grunted again and left the room. Marshall shrugged and turned back to his lunch.

* * *

"So, how come you didn't tell me?" Mary asked quietly, eyes trained on the door.

Marshall shifted on the hard floor. "Because I needed to make up my own mind. And that's not always an option with you. You know how you are."

"I thought you loved this job."

"I did. I do."

Mary finally turned to look at him. "Well, what, then? Tell me. Am I the reason you want to go? Because of how I am?"

He shook his head slowly. "It has more to do with how I am."

"Oh, my God." She didn't roll her eyes, but it looked to be by supreme effort only. "I can't believe I'm getting the _It's not you, it's me_ speech from you. Am I really the reason you want to leave the Marshals Service?"

"No," he answered immediately, then amended. "Not exactly."

"Oh." She exhaled loudly, turning away, and he winced.

"Look, it's nothing like what you think."

She nodded, still not looking at him. "Then you should probably explain, because I'm pretty confused. I know you love the job, and I thought you-- I thought we were friends."

He makes a mental note of her near-slip even as he ignores it. "We are. You're my best friend."

"Jesus, Marshall, you're like my only friend." She finally met his eyes again, and he smiled.

"I know. And you're like my only friend."

"So?" She returned the smile. "Sounds like a pretty good arrangement. What's the problem?"

"The problem with us is...." He trailed off, trying to think of a way to explain without scaring her off.

"Orders in the workplace or not, Marshall, you're going to tell me."

He grinned. "Yeah. I will."

"It's not that, is it? Because I try not to give you orders, you know that. It's just such a part of who I am--"

"And responding to those orders is a part of who I am. I know. It's not that."

"Just tell me." And oh, he couldn't suppress the shiver as she finally brought out her real dom voice, made it an order he could never refuse.

"I feel like I'm the keeper of this exotic animal." The words tumbled out of his mouth, and he blinked once, hard, to try to make sense of them before continuing. "I spend my time either protecting you from the world, or the world from you. And it's just ... it's just a lot of responsibility."

Mary reached towards them, hesitated, and pulled back. "A wise sub once told me that a partnership is about sharing responsibilities."

"Mary," he whispered, not even sure if she heard him.

"I'm sorry," she said in her dom voice, reaching out to him again, wrapping her hand firmly around his wrist. "But that's your job. And you cannot quit." She punctuated it with a quick squeeze, and he felt the tension leave him in a dizzying rush.

"Okay."


End file.
